Better
by She-Elf4
Summary: "I think I like it better when the old man's hittin me. At least then I know he knows who I am." Everyone's always telling Ponyboy that he doesn't have it as bad as Johnnycake, that he's real lucky. Then why doesn't Ponyboy feel too lucky? When Darry goes too far, will Pony's luck run out? Will he be able to bring luck to others? Minor swearing. Complete!
1. Chapter 1 Pony's POV

_"I think I like it better when the old man's hittin me. At least then I know he knows who I am."_

The words ran through my mind as I listened to Darry yelling at me again. Really, I do have it pretty lucky. Darry has only HIT me the once. Sure, he was always pretty rough without meaning to be, but Darry didn't really abuse me. Not like Johnny's parents. And it sure would be rough if Darry acted like I didn't even exist. Or if he threw me out, like Steve's dad was always doing.

"Ponyboy, are you even listening to me?" Darry screamed, and I came back to the present.

"Sorry, my mind wandered," I muttered. Darry's volume raised and his arms started wildly swinging around, making me flinch. Lordy, but that makes my stomach tie in knots.

"Your mind's ALWAYS wandering. You never pay attention! It's no wonder your grade on this test is trash! What IS a wonder is that you aren't already flunking!" He paused for a breath, glared at me, and pointed a finger in my face. "You listen to me right now. This grade had better get better, cause you ain't going NOWHERE except school and home until I see improvement!" With that, Darry finally stalked off, leaving me alone. I felt a little guilty at the sense of relief; after all, I have it real lucky, just like everyone says.

_"I think I like it better when the old man's hittin me. At least then I know he knows who I am."_

The line ran through my head again as Darry shook me. It was giving me a bit of a headache, to be honest. Darry don't mean it, though. He's just worried. But still, this ain't nearly the first time Darry's shaken me after I've been jumped. Glory, it seemed that's Darry's typical reaction. I really wished he would stop, though, those socs punched me in the head pretty hard.

Sodapop finally pulled Darry off, and I fell into a sitting position on the curb. "You ok, pone?" Soda asked in a worried tone. The rest of the gang hung back, giving us some air.

"Yea, I'm ok. Just a bit of a headache," I said. Really, I was slightly dizzy, too.

Sodapop grabbed my chin, looking into my eyes for a long moment. "Ok, just try to take it easy tonight. Tell me if it gets worse," Sodapop says after he's done.

"What the hell were you doing walking by yourself anyway? And why the HELL were you carrying a knife? You know that makes them hit you harder. Glory, why don't you ever think when it counts?" Darry lectured. He wasn't yelling too loud, though. I didn't bother to point out that Darry also complains when I DON'T have a knife.

With that, we all got into Two-Bit's car and headed home. I was glad we didn't have to walk, I wasn't sure I could with how dizzy I was. I wished Darry hadn't shaken me, that sure hadn't helped. But still, shaking someone ain't exactly abuse, is it? I was pretty lucky after all, wasn't I?

_"I think I like it better when the old man's hittin me. At least then I know he knows who I am."_

The next time that line ran through my head, I was in the hospital. Apparently I'd been in an induced coma for a while; my brain started swelling up and the doctors had to remove part of my skull for a while. They put my head back together, but I was still wearing a helmet and taking a bunch of tests to see if there was any permanent brain damage. I was currently talking to the police.

I recognized the older one, it was the same officer that had escorted me and Dallas to the hospital the night Johnny almost died. The younger one kind of intimidated me, so I directed most of my answers to the older one. "Do you remember anything after the attack?" the younger one, Officer Brady, asked.

"I remember the gang, my friends that is, coming to help me," I muttered, only glancing at Officer Brady. Hadn't Darry shaken me again? He probably had, he usually does after he catches me being jumped. "I kind of remember going home in Two-Bit's car. I remember I had a headache, but I didn't think much of it. It happens sometimes." The older one, Officer Garrett, wrote down everything I said.

"Thank you for your time. We will try and find the boys who attacked you. One more thing, has anyone else hit you that you remember?" Officer Garrett asked. He looked real concerned.

I just shook my head. After all, shaking wasn't the same as hitting, was it? Everyone knew that abuse was getting hit and thrown out and ignored. That ain't at all what Darry is doing. Still, I wasn't feeling too lucky. Would being ignored really be so bad?

_"I think I like it better when the old man's hittin me. At least then I know he knows who I am."_

The last time that ran through my head, I was back at home. I'd tried going back to school, but it was real hard. I kept getting bad headaches. The doctors said that anything that strains my brain or gives me headaches or makes me dizzy needs to be avoided. That includes things like reading and schoolwork. I tried to tell Darry that I needed to drop out for a while, and he went ballistic.

He started screaming that I'm being an ungrateful brat. I tried pointing out that my grades had gone up, and that the doctors said I might need to, but that just made him madder. He screamed, "You think one good grade will make a damn bit of difference if you fucking drop out? You think being held back a year will look good on a college application? You think they'll give a fucking delinquent any scholarships at all?" At some point, he'd taken hold of me and started shaking me again. Finally he shoved me away. "Go to your room and don't come out till tomorrow. I'm too mad to even look at you."

I did as he said and laid down on me and Soda's bed. By that point, I had a real bad headache. I fell asleep pretty quickly. When I woke up, I felt kinda strange. I looked down at myself, and didn't notice anything too off. I looked around the room, and noticed that someone else was sleeping there, too. Someone with the same hair as me. That had given me a real strange feeling. I tried to move the hair to get a better look at his face, but my hand passed straight through. Sodapop came in and lightly grabbed his arm and brushed his hair back, calling him by MY name. He didn't wake up. That's when I got a better look at his face, MY face. That's when I realized that Johnny is dead wrong. It's a real lot better to be ignored than hit or shaken or yelled at.

* * *

A.N.: This was inspired by a post I ran across on Pinterest that was making fun of how "whiny" Ponyboy was being after Darry hit him. The comments all agreed, about how Johnny has it SO MUCH WORSE and how Ponyboy ought to get a taste of REAL abuse, blah blah blah. The thing is, Darry IS mildly abusive. For those who might be wondering, the medical issue I'm portraying here is called Secondary Impact Syndrome (that is, your brain getting a second impact when it's already concussed). It can, in fact, be deadly, and it doesn't take much force to cause it. That's one major reason I say Darry is abusive-he shakes Ponyboy right after Ponyboy got jumped (which could have killed Ponyboy if he'd been hit in the head). That's not even considering the constant emotional abuse, which can be just as damaging as physical abuse.


	2. Mea Culpa- Darry's POV

_"You don't ever think. Not at home or anywhere when it counts."_

It seems like that's been my catchphrase to Ponyboy ever since mom and dad died. I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow, all my grief turned to anger. It just ain't fair that they died, while Ponyboy lived. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he lived, but why the hell couldn't they all have lived? Why only Ponyboy? I thought that I could control and channel that anger into keeping Pony safe, but somehow, he always seemed to be putting himself in danger, or ignoring what was best for him. Always walking by himself and getting jumped. Always putting off homework or not worrying about his grades. Hell, I had to drop out of college, and look where it's gotten us. Why can't he understand that he'll have as hard a time as I am now if he don't get his act together? Why can't he just bury whatever he's whining about and get back to work? That's what I have to do. Why can't he understand that if he'd just let me control all the little details in his life, bad things would stop happening?

Somehow, that doesn't seem quite so true anymore. Steve was desperately doing CPR on Ponyboy, Sodapop was on the line with the paramedics, and it all seemed to be my fault. I mean, it was just one little shake. I've done it a thousand times when Ponyboy needed a wake-up call. That's ALL it is, a much needed wake-up call. I get that the doctor said he needed to take it easy, but Ponyboy's missed so much school lately, it's pretty lucky he hasn't already been failed. Why can't anyone understand this is important for Pony's future? But now, he may not have any future left.

Sodapop had come racing out of his and Pony's room, screaming, "Ponyboy won't wake up, I think he's dead!" Naturally, we all went racing back there. Sure enough, Pony hadn't been breathing.

Steve had put his fingers on Pony's neck and said, "His heart's stopped. Soda, call an ambulance." With that, he had started trying to resuscitate Pony. Sodapop had shoved me out of the room on his way to the phone. And here the paramedics were shoving in through the door. I could hear Johnnycake muttering a prayer under his breath in the background, and scoffed quietly to myself. No amount of prayers kept Pony out of danger, or our parents alive. What a joke, God ain't even real.

An hour later, and I was at the hospital talking to two police officers. We had all gotten to the hospital and were waiting for what seemed like forever for news. Then, some grim-looking doctors had come out, saying they hadn't been able to revive Ponyboy. They had muttered something about 'heartfelt sympathies,' and Sodapop had completely broke down. Steve was trying to comfort him, but Soda barely noticed. Johnnycake just looked completely lost, even Dally had looked stunned. I ain't too sure what I did or said, probably cussed. I was real angry, angry at Pony for leaving, at the damn stupid medics for not doing their jobs, at myself for shaking him.

The doctors had then asked about the bruises on his upper arms. I honestly had no idea I had grabbed him that hard. I admitted to shaking him slightly, what else could I do? _You don't think. Not anywhere when it counts._ Lordy, why didn't I think, just that once? Then those two officers, Brady and Garrett, were questioning me while we waited for the coroner's report.

"You said you shook him after he told you he wanted to drop out of school. Have you shaken him prior to that incident?" Officer Garrett asked.

"Once in a while. I mean, the kid never fuckin' thinks. I know better than to hit him, but sometimes he just needs a little wake-up call. But I guess this time I wasn't thinking. I swear to God, I never meant to hurt him," I rambled. The officers just stared at me and quietly wrote down my words. How in the hell could they be so still, so calm? Lordy, I sure as hell wasn't, was pacing around all over the place, huffing so loud you'd think I was a pipe smoker.

"You understand you have the right to an attorney?" The other one, Bradey, asked.

"I just want to get this over with. I know that I...goddamnit, why didn't I just think for once?" I paused in my pacing and slammed my fist on the table, making it go limp with pain for a moment. Just then the coroner walked in.

"Wow, that was quick," Garrett remarked dryly.

"Well, something strange happened with Ponyboy...his body has disappeared from the morgue. We have no idea if it was stolen or if he was only in a coma and woke up and left, since the security cameras down there are broken," the youngish man admitted. I let out a long string of swear words. _Why don't you ever think?_ Well, at least I aint the only one.

_I watched Darry talking to the police about my body disappearing. I didn't care, really; I knew by then I wasn't completely dead, but I was kinda scared to go back. It would just be the same ol' same ol'. Things would just continue to get worse and I didn't think I could handle it anymore. I decided to follow the other dead people leaving the hospital, the living world, behind. Ahead of me, I could see a vast river separating me from Heaven. Luckily, there was an empty rowboat not too far away._

* * *

A.N.: I had intended this to be a one-shot, but the at those Christian churches over Easter and the burning of Notre Dam just wouldn't get out of my head, and somehow, more ideas came up. Now, this story has 5 interwoven themes, and I will be using Christian trappings to explore some of those themes, but I myself am not Christian and this story isn't explicitly so either. Basically, I know I will be getting some of Christian theology wrong, and it's supposed to be that way. However, I am trying to be respectful, so if there is something here that is blatantly disrespectful, tell me and I will try to make it better. Also, I have decided to add Ponyboy's journey through death, as it relates to each chapter. Here is the first part.


	3. Closer, my God, to Thee- Johnny's Pov

_"Johnny, I'm scared...he just can't stand me."_

Those words kept runnin' through my head while we waited for the doctor to tell us any news. I'd all but forgotten those words after I killed that soc, but they'd come back to haunt me. When I found out that all he'd been upset about was Darry givin' him one little smack across the cheek, one that didn't even bruise, I just wanted to tell him to grow up. It ain't like Darry was smackin' him with a two-by-four, like my folks did. Then he started whinin' about how Darry don't like him anymore, and I couldn't help rollin' my eyes. Just cause Darry yells more than he used to doesn't mean he don't like Pony, and besides, he had parents that loved him. I figured that one bad day and a few fights just didn't compare to the lifetime of hatred and abuse that I suffered. I had wondered, for a moment, how Ponyboy could possibly be so childish and self-centered.

Now I wish to God I had actually listened, that I hadn't just blown him off. I'd seen Darry shake him plenty of times; heck, we all had. None of us, not even me, thought a thing of it. Shakin' someone ain't like hittin' em. It just ain't the same, everyone knows that. But then Sodapop came runnin' out, sayin' he was dead. God, he couldn't be dead, not from somethin' that stupid. _God, please, let him be ok. I'll be good, I'll go to church every sunday, I'll do anything. Just please let Ponyboy be ok._ All I could do was mutter prayers under my breath while we waited. I could tell it was gratin' on Darry; he kept pacin' and huffin' curse words under his breath. Finally, the doctors came in, with grim expressions.

"Family of Ponyboy Curtis?" they called, and we all but ran over. They ushered us into an empty room. "We tried to revive him, but there was just too much damage to his brain stem. There was nothing we could do this time. You have our heartfelt sympathies." I couldn't focus on anything they said after that. Ponyboy was gone. My best friend was dead, at just fourteen! God, why couldn't I have done anything? What else should I have done? _"Johnny, I'm scared...he just can't stand me."_ I could have listened to him back then, could have told the social worker.

By this point, Darry had gone off with some police officers. Dally and Two-Bit were lookin' really stunned, and Sodapop was cryin' like I'd never heard before into Steve's shoulder. I hauled myself up and shuffled off with my cains on my own. _God, ain't there anything I can do? You are there, aren't you, God?_ I ended up at the small chapel attached to the hospital. The priest wasn't in, so I just sat down and took out one of the complimentary bibles and opened it at random.

The Judgment of the Dead

11 Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. The earth and the heavens fled from his presence, and there was no place for them. 12 And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books. 13 The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done. 14 Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death. 15 Anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire.

I threw the bible as hard as I could across the room. There was no freakin' way Ponyboy deserved to be judged, he was just a kid! He hadn't done anything wrong! But the reality that Ponyboy was really dead, that there was nothin' I could do about it, finally hit. My own tears came then, I started bawling like I hadn't in a long time. I felt a pair of arms around me and looked up to see Dallas had followed.

The next day saw me and Dallas in Buck's T-bird. We'd been drivin' around, lookin' in back alleys for a while. When I heard that Pony's body had disappeared, I couldn't help the sudden surge of hope. I know it's the police that are supposed to be lookin' for him, but come on. No-one cares about greasers, not even God I was beginnin' to think. _Why, God? What did we do? How can I make it right again?_ I had to do whatever I could to find him. Unfortunately, with me partially paralyzed, I couldn't do that much without Dallas's help. It was especially frusteratin' because I had to sit in the car and watch him talk to people, not really doin' much besides keeping an eye out for my friend. He came back and got into the car, and I could tell by the silence he had bad news.

"You aren't gonna like this none," he said after a long pause. "According to Bruce, there's some black market outfit that's been stealing corpses and selling them to medical experiments. Now, I know it don't prove nothing, but given how badly Pony was hurt..." Dally trailed off. I felt more tears roll down my cheeks. "Come on, let's go back to Bucks and get some shut-eye." I didn't answer Dally, so he just turned the car around and started off. When we got to Buck's, I wouldn't let Dally help me up the stairs. I figured I'd caused him enough trouble for today. He went up before me to find an empty room. By the time I finally got to the top, I was exhausted. I made my way into the room Dally had chosen and let him help me get into bed. I was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

I dreamed I was in a boat on a bright, shining river or lake, I couldn't tell. Ponyboy was rowing us across, towards a fancy silver and white gate. Even though it was a long way off, I could see a crowd of people on the other side, staring up at a silver and white throne. I was scared shitless, but Ponyboy seemed calm. He turned to me and gave me one of his shy, quiet smiles and wiped the tears off my cheeks. I woke up with a start and turned to the nightstand to check the time. Lying open there on the nightstand was Ponyboy's sketchbook, with a picture of the same gate and throne I'd seen in my dream.

_I was trying to row myself across the river, but I'd never been in a boat before. I'd seen a lot of strange stuff since starting out; there had been a demon that was like a bull that walked like a person, and a snake that spat fire. I'd managed to avoid them, though. The river twisted and turned, almost like a maze. Was this purgatory? I wasn't too sure. People around me kept giving me funny looks, though, like I didn't belong._

_I could still see the living world in the distance. I could see Johnnycake and Dally looking for me. I guess I hadn't thought about how my friends and Sodapop were feeling, but it was a little late to turn back. But, hopefully, they'd find the stuff I'd sent them, then they'd know that I'm really ok. I finally reached the other shore, and set out for the gate_.


	4. Thus Saith The Lord- Soda's POV

I woke up ta the feeling of an arm over me. For one glorious second, my still sleepy brain was SURE it was Ponyboy, just like it had been every morning since our parents died. But then I opened my eyes and the illusion shattered, like my life. It was Steve, of course. He'd barely left my side since this nightmare began. We were over at Two-Bit's house. Mrs. Matthews agreed ta take me in until further notice, i.e. the trial. Darry was in jail, and it seemed like he'd plead guilty. Part of me wanted him home, part of me hoped he'd get the chair, but most of me just couldn't quit crying. Even the vague possibility that Ponyboy might somehow not be dead just ain't enough ta hold onto.

_"When Darry hollars at you...he don't mean nothin'."_

I must've said that to Pony half a million times. Always thought it was true. Of course Darry loves us, he's just stressed. I thought keepin' the peace was best, thought things would have ta eventually calm down, right? Boy howdy was I wrong. Just listening to that doctor say, "There was nothing we could do this time," was proof of that. Then Darry got hauled away by the police, our social worker had ta come out, it was a mess and I barely remember most of it. Wish I didn't remember talking ta the police the next day, though. They'd come and pulled me away from my work (wasn't doing too well anyhow), said they'd "needed to ask a few questions." I couldn't hardly look at the old one, he looked sad and worn, just like me. The young guy's anger was easier to deal with.

"Darry said he's taken to shaking Ponyboy when he's frustrated. Can you tell us anything about that?" the old guy asked.

"Uh, yea, I mean, we've all seen it sometimes. But Darry knows better than to hit Pony, he's seen what it does to Johnny. He loses his temper sometimes, but he ain't abusive," I'd answered, only glancing at the old guy before looking back ta the younger one.

"And it never occured to you that shaking a child is abusive?" the young guy asked. My confusion must've shown, cause he continued, "Shaking a child is considered a form of physical abuse, and it can cause brain damage or death."

And that just fuckin killed me. I literally watched my older brother abuse my baby brother, _kill_ my baby brother, and did nothing. I wondered why Darry had been hauled in, and now I knew. I ain't exactly sure what all I said after that, just that I rambled on and on, and probably made no sense at all. The worst part about it all is, I knew that Darry's yelling was gettin' ta Pony. He talked about it all the time, about how Darry never thought he was good enough. Why didn't I take him seriously? I just kept blowin it off, explaining it away. The best answer I can come up with is, troubles just kept pilin' up, we were all reaching the end of our rope, none of us knew what shaking could do, we all DID know how bad Darry's temper could be, and none of us really wanted to provoke it. It was easier ta tell Pony ta quit complaining, that Darry didn't mean it. And now, it's all I can think about. Layin' here next ta my sleeping best friend in the Matthews house, even though I couldn't hardly quit cryin' for second, I could tell how much more peaceful their house was than ours. I didn't notice just how scared Darry's yelling made me until it wasn't there anymore. Gosh, I can only imagine how much worse it was for Pony, and we all blew him off, told him ta shut up.

Just then, Steve opened his eyes. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," I said in a hoarse whisper. I hadn't started cryin' yet, but I could feel it coming on.

"You ready for today?" he asked. I didn't answer. He already knew the answer: of course not. Darry's trial was today. They couldn't charge him with much without Pony's body, but it looked like Darry's lawyer had worked out a deal. Steve drew me in for a hug. Of course I started cryin' again. We stayed like that for quite a while; the weight in my chest just drained my energy. Finally, we heard Mrs. Matthews calling, and we started getting ready.

_"When Darry hollars at you...he don't mean nothin'."_

It ran through my head again in the courtroom. Sittin' in the courtroom was almost surreal. I was in the audience, of course. Two-bit and Steve were on one side, Johnny was on the other side, and Dally was on Johnny's other side. I was just sittin' there, waiting for them to call me to testify. Unless, of course, Darry took the plea. Just then, some guy announced, "All rise. The court is now in session, the Honourable Judge Sadeek presiding." The judge came in and sat down.

The judge sittin' behind his stand with his hammer kinda struck me like God, ready ta pass judgement on us Greasers. I briefly wondered what God would say ta all this, ta my part in it. I figured God wouldn't really need ta judge me none, I already got that covered. "Bailiff, could you please read the dockett?" the judge asked, cutting inta my thoughts.

"Your honor, today's case is Darryl Curtis Jr. vs. the City of Tulsa," the first guy said. I tuned some of it out, but Steve poked me in the side in time ta hear, "Darryl Curtis Jr., how do you plead?"

"Your honor, I would like to plead guilty," Darry said. It figured. On one hand, I was glad ta hear him admit he was wrong, that he had hurt Ponyboy. On the other hand, I was just as guilty for not doin' nothin. What surprised me was that the judge called for all the evidence ta be gone over anyway, I figured the whole thing would end with the plea. I was eventually called ta testify.

I don't really remember all of what I said, just that they asked me alot of questions about Darry, his general character, and the times I saw him shake Ponyboy. I answered them as best I could, but it was real tough. I felt like I was bein torn in half, like I had ta choose between them. Part of me still felt like Darry loved us ta the ends of the earth, and really hadn't meant ta hurt no-one. The rest of me was startin' ta hate him. Finally, the sentence was passed: a year of probation and loss of custody of me. I would be staying with the Matthews permanently. The sentence woulda been alot harsher, but the doctors all testified that the shaking probably wouldn't've hurt Pony if he hadn't already been concussed. And that was the Soc's fault, not Darry's. I was both relieved and disappointed.

What was left of our gang, sans Darry, all went ta Buck's. The mood was kinda subdued; news of Ponyboy was affecting everyone. I was sittin' by myself in the corner, nursing my first beer. For once, I wasn't crying. My chest still felt heavy, and I felt completely drained. I wasn't too sure I'd ever feel anything else. I saw Steve heading over with his own beer. "How ya holdin up?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Least I ain't cryin, I guess," I muttered. "Dunno what ta think. I hate ta think of my big brother in prison, but that wasn't even a slap on the wrist. Like Pony's life didn't even matter."

"It did to all of us," Steve said. I had ta smile at that; I knew him and Pony hadn't gotten on too well. But he'd always had Pony's back regardless; that's the kind of friend he is. "There ain't no-where Darry can go among Greasers now and not catch shit. Might as well be a Soc." I could hear the scorn and anger in his voice. I was kinda glad at least one of us could hate Darry properly. But still, it shoulda been me hating him. But how could I hate my big brother? How could I pass judgement on him, when I had been just as bad in my own way?

We both sat there for a few hours, nursing beers and chasing away well-wishers. The whole thing felt like a wake; maybe the only one we'd ever have, if we couldn't find Pony's body. Eventually the gang all ended up gathering in Dally's usual room. It was unusually quiet for us; we all just mostly piled around the room, Johnny and Dally on the bed and me, Steve, and Two-Bit on the floor. As I was getting out of my shoes and jeans, something fell out of my pocket: an old battered songbook, titled _Battle Hymn of the Republic_. I have no idea how it got there, but I smiled in spite of myself. That was one of Ponyboy's favorite songs, him and dad used ta sing it so much it drove all of us nuts. Reading through it, I found it ironically appropriate.

**Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,**

**He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,**

**He hath loosed His fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword,**

**His truth is marching on.**

_I was glad to see Sodapop had found my gift, glad it made him smile. I had finally reached the front of the line. It was my turn to be judged. I was kinda nervous, I hadn't really had much of a chance to do anything with my life. What if I came up short? I looked at the creature holding a massive rolled paper and a brush, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. At first I could swear it had a long, skinny neck with a bird head, then it seemed to be a man with several pairs of wings. I supposed it to be an Angel, Johnny had said they look pretty strange. Beside him, a fairly normal looking man was reading from a large book. In the distance, a great man's figure that seemed to be made of burning light was passing through, the Angels bowed in reverence. I figured it must be God, so I bowed too. The angel that carried the paper roll consulted the man for a moment, then flew up to God and they talked for a moment. I could feel them both looking at me and tried not to fidget. Finally, the angel approached me._

_"Ponyboy, it is not quite your time yet. However, you have already seen the other side, you have seen divinity face-to-face. Therefore, you have a choice: you can live a longer life, bringing faith and healing to those immediately around you, and in time, be forgotten. Or, you can die an extraordinary death, bring faith and healing to thousands all over the world, and be remembered until the end of time. Your body will soon be found either way, but if you wait too long to decide it will be too late to rejoin your brothers."_

_"What about my brothers? Which choice will let me keep them safe?" I asked._

_"When you do die, there are there some wandering guardian angels on earth, I suppose you could join them," said the Angel. That sounded good to me._

* * *

A.N.: Next to last chapter. I hope people are still enjoying this story, I haven't gotten any feedback from the last chapter. Nonetheless, I still intend to finish it. Hopefully, all the themes will tie together next chapter. It could take a while to find out, as my work schedule has gotten busier.


	5. To Heaven and Earth-1st end Two-Bit POV

_I was laying on my cloud after a day of apprenticing under Francis de Sales, the patron saint of writers. I liked it here in heaven, everyone was so nice, I had my parents back, but I felt incomplete. I found I missed my family and friends, even Darry. God had told me that although it wasn't my time yet, I could stay in heaven until my body was found by my family or desecrated by the thieves. I knew I had chosen, I would rather be with my family. Being forgotten didn't really bother me none._

_I flew off my cloud and down to Earth, but as I was approaching, I saw something strange happening in the warehouse my body was being kept in. My family would have to wait, a girl was in danger, what was it with these thieves and cutting people up?_

Me and ol' Dal had been tracking down this band of body snatchers. (Heh, makes me think of that old movie, _The Body Snatchers_.) It was amazing how single-minded Dally was being about finding Pony's body, didn't think he liked the kid much. I tagged along mostly for Sodapop and Johnny's sakes... I missed Pony, sure, but dead was dead. Besides, it ain't like his soul was dead, it just wasn't here anymore. I've always preferred thinking about the good times to bein' sad and mopey, even when my own old man passed.

Anyway, me, Dally, and Sodapop were following up on this rumor about a warehouse this gang was supposedly using. (Steve was staying with Johnnycake.) We were looking around, trying to figure out which one it was, when I swear to God, we saw Pony go into one of them. I yelled out and the others all saw him too. He didn't look too good...all pale, sunken, and blue, kinda like how I picture a vampire. Sodapop cried out, "Pony!" as we all ran towards him, but of course by that time he'd disappeared. We all followed him in and looked around, but the layout wasn't like most warehouses. It was a maze of rooms and hallways. We were all branching out when, once again, we saw Pony disappear around a corner. We all managed to keep quiet this time as we followed. This kept on for a while, through doors, around corners, and finally, down a few flights of stairs. We eventually came across a door with a keypad lock...we must've been underground by that point. I kinda wondered, would we have found it on our own? Just then, I swear I heard Pony's voice whispering a number. I punched it in and the door opens. Hey, maybe I'm psychic!

It was a lab of some sort, with medical stuff all around the room. In the middle there was this bed with a pretty blond handcuffed to it. She saw us and called out, "Please help me!" Sodapop ran over and started picking the lock on the handcuffs. Heh, it's a good thing we're greasers.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Sodapop asked as we checked the girl out for injuries (well, mostly for injuries, but she was wearing the cutest tie-dye minidress).

"My name is Jane. I live on the west side of town. These men abducted me for medical stuff. They're selling organs on the black market," she rambled. Just then, Dally gave a shout. We all rush over and through yet another door, a heavy metal one this time. It lead to a cold storage room filled to the brim with corpses, most of them pretty cut up. I glanced at Soda, he had a hand over his mouth and his eyes were bright. Ponyboy was tucked into the corner, but he hadn't been cut up yet. Good thing, I think, I dunno how Soda would've handled that. As soon as he saw Pony, he rushed over and grabbed him, breathing pretty hard (no tears, though, I'm kinda proud of him for that). Jane was behind him, patting his shoulder.

We all jumped when a voice yelled out, "Who are you?" Dallas reacted the fastest, pulling us all down as the guy's gun comes out. The guy managed to squeeze off a couple rounds before I tackled him. Dally took out his own heater and put it to the guy's head.

"We're the guys who're puttin' you outta business, for good if you don't cooperate," Dally growled. He pulled the man up and pushed him in front. "Now, you're gonna lead us out of here, real nice and quite like." Sodapop and Jane grabbed Pony, I brought up the rear with my showpiece shining in my hand. The guy lead us back through the maze of corridors; somehow we managed to avoid running into anyone else. Before the guy could even ask to be let go, Dallas smashed the butt of his gun into the guy's head, knocking him out. "Alright, I'm gonna keep watch on this creep. Two-Bit, you go get an ambulance."

I ran off down the street, stopping at the nearest payphone to dial 911. I told the operators where we were and about the warehouse and Pony and Jane and all, and soon they were on their way. I ran back to the group; the guy was still out cold. He was just coming to when the ambulance and police arrived. Dallas gave me a sour look as the cops started questioning him. Things were pretty chaotic after that; the medics getting Pony and Jane off to the hospital, trying to keep Sodapop calm, trying to answer police questions (the same two officers we'd been dealing with since Pony was first hospitalized, according to Sodapop). Finally, the warehouse was secured, we'd answered all the questions, and were let go with a warning not to go out-of-town. Naturally, we all went to the hospital (after phoning Steve and Johnnycake, of course).

That's when the real shocker came: Pony wasn't dead after all. He was, indeed, in a coma. And, of course, that's what we were talking about, all gathered in Jane's room.

"But how could he still be in a coma when we all saw him walking around?" Sodapop demanded. "It doesn't make sense." He was pacing around and gesturing, wringing his hands. I kinda felt bad for the guy...this was a lot to take in, even for me. I could only imagine how it was for him. Pony's dead, he's not dead, he's dead, he's not dead...talk about a roller-coaster.

"What, exactly, did you see?" Steve asked.

"Well, I saw him into the warehouse and we all saw him leading us to Frankenstein's lair. But when we got there, he was out cold in that corpse fridge," I said.

"Maybe it was a guardian angel you saw," Johnnycake cut in. Dally just kinda smirked at that, but Jane nodded.

"I'll bet it was. You know what they say, 'There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' I've heard about Mystics in India and China who can project their souls to different places," she said. We all got kinda quiet after that, guess she's one of those hippie gals. The nurses chased us out shortly afterwards.

A couple weeks later saw Ponyboy FINALLY coming home with us. Soda and Steve had been working hard to set up my room for him and Sodapop. It would be crowded with three people, but no-one minded. My house had become our new hangout; Dally and Johnny would stay in the living room when they weren't at Buck's, we made it work. I saw Dally coming in with Pony, carrying a small suitcase. (Sodapop and Steve were still at work.) "Here ya go, kid. You'll be in Two-Bit's room, if you can stand it," he drawled. I shoved at him playfully.

"Of course he can stand it, he loves me!" I joked. Dally rolled his eyes. I kinda wonder about him lately, he's been hovering over Pony almost as much as Sodapop. Not bein' suicidal, I hadn't asked, though. "You and Sodapop will be sharing a bed, same ol' same ol'."

"Yea," Pony said with a slight smile, glancing around the room. I waited to see if he'd say anything else, but he didn't. Man, he was quieter than Johnnycake these days.

"How's the new school treating ya?" I asked, and Pony grimaced as he tried to come up with an answer.

"Hard," he settled on. I didn't press. He lay down on his and Sodapop's bed, so Dally and I left and closed the door.

"He getting any better?" I asked Dally.

"Not at talking," Dallas answered. "Doctor says it's pretty common after brain damage, and it probably won't get better, not after this long. But look at this." He pulled out a sketchbook and handed it to me. I flipped through it and whistled. It was a picture of some fancy stained glass window, but all the panes of glass were people in different colored clothes holding hands, forming a sort-of rose pattern. "He did that one after Jane was telling him about a bunch of the different religions she's reading about. And this one," he flipped to one of a woman in a housedress holding a baby, "he did when him and Johnnycake visited the cathedral last week. He used the statue of Mary as a model. I asked him what it was supposed to mean, he said 'mother.' " He fell silent as I continued to flip through the book, each drawing exquisite and surreal. We went out to the living room, where Johnnycake sat on the couch.

"You see these?" I asked him, gesturing to the book.

"Yea, ain't they neat? The doctors all say he's some kind of artistic genius. They say it's a miracle the brain damage didn't affect his talent, but I remember his artwork before. It wasn't nowhere near this good." Johnny shook his head, flipping once again through the book. He continued to look at the drawings as I turned on the TV. Had to get my Mickey Mouse fix!

About an hour later saw Sodapop and Steve come home from work. Steve flopped down on the floor in front of the TV. Ma and Suzie, my little sis, started dinner while Sodapop went to check on Ponyboy. Soda came back in a minute, guiding Pony to the couch, between Johnnycake and Dally. "Hey, Steve, how was work today?" Pony asked.

"Fine," Steve answered without thinking, then we all froze. He hadn't said that many words since before his coma.

"Uh, how-how you feeling?" I asked after a moment.

"Better. Head's clearer, I think," he said. After that, he closed his eyes and leaned on Dally's shoulder. I guess it's true, what Jane said. There really are more things in Heaven and Earth than we can dream of.

* * *

A.N.: Sorry it's been so long, to whoever is still interested in this story. The ending I'd originally planned just wasn't working for several reasons, and it put me in a bit of a writer's block. I ended up completely changing the climax/subplot, and had to figure out how to work my themes into it. In a lot of ways, this story is clunkier than I would like, but I still like it and enjoyed writing it.

There has been interest in what my originally planned ending was, so I will be including it in this story as an alternate "what if Ponyboy had made the other chocie?" A lot of thanks goes to The Night Ninja, who has helped me get unstuck with my original ending and helped a LOT with the Christian elements. I might end up moving this chapter to the end and move the original ending ahead of it, we'll just see. It'll stay where it is until that ending is written, though.


	6. Dies Illa-2nd end Dally POV

_I was laying on my cloud after a day of apprenticing under Francis de Sales, the patron saint of writers. I liked it here in heaven, everyone was so nice, I had my parents back, but I felt incomplete. I found myself wishing I had done something with my life, something that made the world a better place. God had told me that although it wasn't my time yet, I could stay in heaven until my body was found by my family or desecrated by the thieves. I knew I had chosen, I would rather bring healing to the world. My family would be okay._

_I flew off my cloud and down to Earth, but as I was approaching, I saw something strange happening in Notre Dam. My family would have to wait, hundreds of people were in danger, what was it with churches and fire?_

We were sitting in the Matthew's living room, watching the news, waiting for a movie to come on. Everyone was bummed out and I was pretty pissed...we'd missed getting Pony's body back by just a few hours. I'd been trying to find Pony (or his body) with a single-minded intensity that kept my mind off doing anything too rash (only because of Johnny, to tell ya the truth). I'd finally managed to track down the warehouse the bodysnatchers were using, but they'd cleared out. God only knew where the hell they were now. I'd kinda hoped, right along with everyone else, to find him alive at first. Not that I thought that he was still alive, but still. Finding his damn body and having a funeral would help everyone move on; pretty sure that's what Pony would want anyway. Just then, the news brought me out of my fuming.

"Here we are with the Archbishop of Notre Dame. Tell me, what did you see?"

"Morning mass was going smoothly until I noticed a hooded figure carrying what looked like a bomb. Before I could react a white light shown in the church and I saw another, slightly transparent figure with large white wings appeared and tackle the hooded figure, defusing the bomb and then disappearing. The angel had a youthful appearance, green eyes and auburn hair. The crowds of people had no idea what had just happened as the man in the hood still looked terrified like he had seen a divine figure, which he had. I called security and he was led away in handcuffs. A short while later, the police discovered the body of a boy hidden in the catacombs beneath the cathedral, one of several. I happened to see the boy as they brought him up, and it was the angel that saved our beloved cathedral!"

The picture went back to the original reporter. "The bodies appear to have been hidden beneath the cathedral as part of a black-market deal. In addition to more than a dozen bodies, a young woman was rescued alive, and taken to the local hospital. It is currently unknown if the attempted bombing had anything to do with the black market body deals."

We all silently watched the news about the bombing attempt at Notre dame and listened to the bishop explain through a translator, what he saw. He explained the angelic figure tackling the bomber, the auburn hair, the green eyes, the youth. The bodies found beneath the cathedral. We all exchanged looks.

"Maybe Pony is still here," said Johnny hopefully.

"Trick of the light and the idiot tripped," I snapped, not wanting everyone's hopes to get up AGAIN. Damn, couldn't we ever catch a break?

"But what if it was Pony" said Soda hopefully, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah it was me," said a voice behind us. We all whirled around, and I'll be damned if it wasn't Ponyboy, looking all transparent and angelic, just like that old man had said.

Sodapop's face kind of fell and he gave Pony a sad smile. "You really are gone, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yea," Pony answered. "I decided to go ahead and go. But, it ain't like I've disappeared. I'll still be watching over ya."

"I'm so sorry, I never dreamed he would go that far, I didn't know shaking someone was worse than hitting them," Soda said, starting to cry yet again. (Couldn't really blame him, though.)

"Yea, if I'd have listened to ya instead of blowing ya off," Johnny started, but Pony waved them off.

"You couldn't have done anything, not really. Darry's the strongest out of all of us, and he had a temper. I don't know why, but somehow, mom and dad's death just made him angry instead of sad," he said.

"I feel like it's time for a joke, but I can't think of one," Two-Bit broke in. I rolled my eyes at him with a huff. "We're really gonna miss you, Pone."

"I'll miss you guys too," Pony answered. He looked over at me, right in the eye. I had a feeling he could see right into my soul, knew the exact reason I'd hunted his body so intently. "You take care of yourself Dally. Watch after them, ya hear?"

"Sure thing, kid," I answered gruffly. This heart-to-heart shit was not my dig. He gave me one of his shy smiles and disappeared.

Ponyboy's body ended up being kept in the basement of Notre Dame. I figured it was just as well at this point; ain't no way we could afford to ship it here AND give it a proper funeral. In the coming weeks, we were all interviewed by the priests at our local cathedral. Couldn't figure out why, until we heard on the news that he'd been declared "Blessed" by the Pope. Didn't think some random greaser's death would get this big. It probably wouldn't have, except that someone got a picture of what happened at Notre Dame. I still hate that the kid died such a damn useless death, but at least the kid would be remembered. He deserved that, at least.

* * *

A.N.: Here it is, the originally planned ending. As a reader I still prefer the other ending, but as a writer it was fun to figure out how to write this one. Big thanks to The Night Ninja for helping me with this chapter, it would not have happened without her. She actually wrote a couple of paragraphs, here is her original writing without my editing/additions:

Pony's POV  
I was laying on my cloud after a day of apprenticing under Francis de Sales, the patron saint of writers, I liked it here in heaven, everyone was so nice, I had my parents back, but I felt incomplete. God had told me that although it wasn't my time yet, I could stay in heaven until my body was found by my family or desecrated by the theives.  
"Ponyboy, your body will be found soon, but unfortunately, it will be too late for you to be able to return to your brothers," said One of the archangels  
"Is there any way I could still keep them safe?" I asked  
"Well, there are some wandering guardian angels on earth, I suppose you could join them," said the Arch Angel. That sounded good to me. I flew off my cloud and down to earth, as I was approaching, I noticed something strange happening in Notre Dam, my family would have to wait, hundreds of people were in danger, What is it with churches and fires?

No POV  
The Archbishop in charge of Notre Dam could not recall seeing the stained glass windows next to him before, a young green eye, auburn-haired angel leaving the gates of heaven to go to earth. The stained glass image seemed to move and change. Morning mass was going smoothly until the bishop noticed a hooded figure carrying what looked like a bomb. Before the bishop could react a white light shown in the church and the bishop saw another, slightly transparent figure with large white wings appeared and tackle the hooded figure, defusing the bomb and then disappearing, the angel looked just like the one in the new window. The crowds of people had no idea what had just happened as the man in the hood still looked terrified like he had seen a divine figure, which he had, as he was led away in handcuffs. The gang was watching the news about the bombing attempt at Notre dam and listened to the bishop explain through a translator, what he saw. He explained the angelic figure tackling the bomber, the auburn hair, the green eyes, the youth. The gang exchanged looks  
"Maybe Pony is still here," said Johnny hopefully  
"Trick of the light and the idiot tripped," said Dally  
"But what if it was Pony" said Soda hopefully  
"Yeah it was me," said a voice behind them


End file.
